


I didn't ask for cream and sugar

by hamstergyu



Series: Tokyo Ghoul Oneshots [2]
Category: EXO (Band), Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Tokyo Ghoul AU, Torture, kris is a bully, very angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3980209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamstergyu/pseuds/hamstergyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tokyo Ghoul AU</p><p>There’s a large gash that stretches from the tip of his ear down to his jaw.  “How do you take your coffee?”  He pours a mug for himself and lets the steam curl into his face with a soft whistle. “I like mine particularly sweet,” he tears open a package of sugar – the only sound in the room was the sound of it sprinkling into the cup and his dark whistling.  “But I asked you,” he lifts the mug to his lips and takes a long, refreshing sip and hums at the warmth. “How do you take your coffee?” </p><p>There’s a sound of chains clinking together and silence that lasts years until a broken, raspy voice whimpers out, “Black.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I didn't ask for cream and sugar

There’s a large gash that stretches from the tip of his ear down to his jaw.  “How do you take your coffee?”  He pours a mug for himself and lets the steam curl into his face with a soft whistle. “I like mine particularly sweet,” he tears open a package of sugar – the only sound in the room was the sound of it sprinkling into the cup and his dark whistling.  “But I asked _you_ ,” he lifts the mug to his lips and takes a long, refreshing sip and hums at the warmth. “How do you take your coffee?” 

There’s a sound of chains clinking together and silence that lasts years until a broken, raspy voice whimpers out, “Black.” 

Yifan starts to whistle merrily and flips the lights on and inspects the boy before him.  He’s scrawny, nothing but skin and bones, his hair is oily and his body’s covered with scratches.  Nothing deep, and if Yifan pays close attention, he’ll see a few of the cuts sew themselves together seamlessly.  He resets the kettle on the coffee machine and starts it. “Kim Jongin.  First year college student, studying in the performing arts?”  Yifan whistles in approval and takes a sip from his coffee and smacks his lips together, “What do you wanna be?” 

The boy swallows thickly and watching him shiver makes guilty pleasure twist in Yifan’s stomach.  It feels good watching him tremble in fear, it feels good knowing he’s terrified.  It feels pretty damn good knowing Yifan is the one in control.  “A dancer.” He mumbles. 

“A dancer?”  Yifan leans back on the cabinets and taps his fingers against the marble.  From the way he fidgets, Yifan can tell Jongin doesn’t like the sound, so he makes it as loud as he possible.  “That would fit well for an Ukaku type like you,”   

The boy shivers and Yifan laughs.  He sets down his mug to the side and when the coffee maker goes off he pours the fresh brew into a plastic cup and loads it with milk and sugar.  “I want to ask you a couple questions, Jongin, if that’s alright?” 

Jongin screws his eyes shut.  He thinks of Sungyeol and Sunggyu and he knows they would _never_ betray him.  He knows they would die, both of them, to protect him.  He knows Minseok and Luhan would do the same and Jongin knows that he has to too.  “I won’t answer them.” 

Yifan clicks his tongue and stirs the fresh cup of coffee and takes a small test sip.  He makes a face and wrinkles his nose, “I never did like cream in my coffee,” He lifts the cup and swirls the liquid with his finger and Jongin keeps his eyes shut tightly and waits.   He waits and prays they will come for him, it’s all he can do.  “That isn’t very fair, you don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“I have a hunch,” Jongin says.  His voice doesn’t give out any emotion.  It reflects his posture – stoic and waiting.  Yifan chuckles at that, the boy knows.  Though, it isn’t hard to guess.

“I don’t like to play games.”  Yifan strides towards Jongin until he is towering over him and the milky coffee tight in his grasp.  Jongin can smell the steam rolling off the cup and does his best not to gag at the curdled cheese stench.  “Give me the name of the ghoul organization in the fourth ward of Seoul.”

Jongin tries not to shake and finds it ironic that he doesn’t ask if there is one.  He finds it ironic that they know.  But he thinks of Luhan’s laughs and Minseok’s shy smiles and how they wouldn’t lift a single finger to touch a human.  Jongin thinks of himself, a killer, a murderer.  He thinks of all the lives he’s snatched and the flesh he’s sunk his teeth into.  He thinks of the family’s he’s ruined and he’s happy that he’s here right now.  If not him, it could be Luhan.  If not him, it could be someone innocent.  Jongin doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to be tortured.  But Jongin would rather it be him than someone who doesn’t deserve it. 

The boy opens his eyes with a defiant glare in his eyes and spits out with a thick snarl in his voice.  “I don’t know.  But if I did, I can promise I wouldn’t tell you.”

Yifan smiles so wide his eyes crinkle up and his teeth flash so blindingly white.  He looks boyish and young, innocent and warm.  “I was hoping you’d say something like that,” he giggles softly and Jongin tenses up every muscle in his body and waits.  Yifan pinches the bridge of Jongin’s nose and claws at the side of his mouth.  Jongin tries to kick out with his feet but they’re bounded tightly to the chair he’s chained in, the cuffs dig into his ankle and the flesh is already red and raw - Yifan’s smile widens at that.  The boy presses his lips together tightly and they don’t budge, Yifan can fix that, though. 

He unclips the Quinque blade pressed against his hips and swings it out into the air.  Jongin’s eyes widen a little but his expression hardens and he presses his lips together harder.  But he’s just a boy, a boy who wasn’t built for this, no one was built for this.  Yifan cackles and plunges the dagger straight into Jongin’s stomach and pours liquid poison down Jongin’s throat when the boy opens his mouth to scream. 

Yifan takes a step back and watches the boy gargle and cough.  The steaming liquid drips down his chin and into the fresh wound in his stomach that is oozing blood and the heat makes Jongin writhe in pain.  It only makes the sick feeling of pleasure in Yifan’s stomach grow when the coffee settles in his stomach and Jongin starts heaving.  The sound of Jongin’s retching echoes in the room and Yifan starts to whistle a new tune while he waits for the boy to catch his breath.  Yifan’s smile stretches wider and wider the more he watches Jongin’s frail body tremble.  “Let’s try this again,” he takes large, ominous strides towards Jongin and the boy flinches at every step, “Give me the name of the ghoul organization in the fourth ward.”

Jongin doesn’t speak, he doesn’t trust his voice.  Yifan’s fingers graze underneath his chin and he gently lifts his face until he’s looking into his eyes.  Yifan gently brushes the bangs out of his eyes and pushes their foreheads together and Jongin’s stomach is curdling.  He shivers violently when Yifan asks again but still refuses to open his mouth. 

Yifan sighs, “Ah, this will be much more fun than I thought.”

Yifan runs his thumb over the blade of his knife and walks to the back of the chair Jongin is confined in.  Jongin tries to focus on breathing and imagines he’s with Luhan and Minseok at the street fair and he pictures playing those street games Luhan is so bad at and he imagines Minseok giving him that teddy bear as consolation.  He imagines skipping stones when they were kids and he remembers falling into the water and being fished out by Sunggyu and he pretends that he’s okay.  He pretends he’s sleeping and when he wakes up he’ll go to school and he’ll meet up with Sehun and maybe they’ll ditch History to go grab a few rounds at the PC Bang.  He wonders if Sehun is worried about him now.  He wonders if he’s tried to find him yet.  He wonders what Sehun would do if he knew.  The thought makes Jongin sick.

He snaps back into reality when Yifan’s breath tickles his ear and his fingers are caressing Jongin’s fingers. Jongin feels the blade of the knife lightly graze his knuckles and fear buckles down into his heart.  “I want to tell you a story,” Yifan whispers.  “When I got this scar, I learned a particularly useful piece of information,” 

Yifan digs the blade into the joint that connects Jongin’s pinky to his hand and whistles as Jongin thrashes and screams.  Blood spills out and drips down onto Yifan’s shoes and he spares a chuckle when he starts to saw through bone and Jongin releases a blood curdling scream so loud it nearly shatters the glass in the windows.  Jongin desperately tries to pull away, tries to scoot off, but Yifan keeps him rooted the spot relatively easy.  His pinky finger detaches and falls into a pool of blood with a tiny little plop and Yifan sighs.  “Apparently, ghouls are very good at healing, this will grow back soon,”

Jongin’s body convulses and Yifan watches him whimper and he leans over the chair to look at the blood-stained tears roll off his cheeks.  He looks down to Jongin’s pinky and watches the bone slowly start to reform and whistles at the speed.  “Anyway, do you know who gave me this scar?”  Yifan pats Jongin’s hair and the boy flinches so hard the chair scoots an inch.  Yifan just laughs. 

“It was a pretty little ghoul,” Jongin’s insides curdle and he whimpers a soft plea to be let free.  Yifan laughs at his request.  “We called her Cat for her stealth, she was a strong fighter.”  Yifan begins to slice at another finger and talks over Jongin’s screams.  “And you know what?”  He raises his voice when Jongin starts to scream words at him.  _Stopstopstopstop_.  “She had children!”  Yifan exclaims and takes his blade away from Jongin’s finger.  _Pleasepleaseplease_.  “Your mother would be very proud of you, Jongin-ah.”  He takes the half-sawed finger from Jongin’s hand and yanks and pulls. 

Yifan laughs over the sound of tearing flesh and whistles when bone cracks.  Jongin screams so loud he starts to cough violently.  The wound from his stomach starts to catch up to him and the boy heaves and retches until blood tumbles out of his mouth and his toes are soaked in a puddle of his own blood.  “Please stop,” Jongin whimpers, “Please stop, _it hurts.  It hurts so bad._ ” 

Yifan’s nonchalant attitude evaporates.  Rage burns in his eyes and he doesn’t slice off another finger.  He doesn’t pour coffee down Jongin’s throat and he doesn’t cut open his stomach.  He smacks him across the face with all of his strength and the boy can only spare so much as a tiny whimper of pain.  “Stop? You want me to stop?” Yifan weaves his fingers around Jongin’s throat and his thoughts go wild at the feel of his pulse point throbbing against his fingers.  “Your mother nearly blinded my right eye, and you know why?”  Jongin gasps for air and Yifan presses harder.  “So your sorry _ass_ survives!”  Jongin’s eyes start to roll towards the back of his head and Yifan lets go, only to keep him alive for his selfish reasons.  

_Jongin-ah, run.  Don’t look back and run.  Umma will keep you safe._

“I had a three year old son.”  Yifan’s voice drops an octave and he runs his fingers over his blade. “That day, I had my son on me.  It was my day off and I took him to the park,” Tears prick at the corner of his eyes and Yifan’s grip on the blade tightens.  “My duty cost me my son.”  He snarls at Jongin, “Release your Kagune or I’ll cut off more fingers,”

Jongin trembles and it takes all of his strength to push the feathery wings out of his back.  He feels blackness tugging at his eyes and forces them to keep open.  Yifan ghosts his fingers over his Kagune with a gentle swipe and Jongin waits for him to plunge his blade into them.  He hopes he does – he hopes he goes deep enough that he dies.   He wants to die.  His eyes are fluttering shut and he feels his Kagune dissipate under Yifan’s touch.  “The thing I hate the most about you…you have the same Kagune as her.  The same that sliced my baby boy in half.”

Yifan slips the blade back against his hip and takes one last look at a tired Jongin shaking and shivering.  A part of him feels a tiny pang of guilt for inflicting so much pain on a boy so small and tiny. Only a little, though. Not enough to make him stop forever, but enough to make him stop for now. He spares him a scoff and shoves his hand into his pockets before storming off.

Yifan slams the door behind him.

Jongin cries himself into unconsciousness and prays for death. 

**Author's Note:**

> my newfound obsession for tokyo ghoul is starting to take over my life. oops.


End file.
